


Cats: 2525

by Charles_Rockafellor



Category: Boynton Cats - Sandra Boynton, In the year 2525 - Zager and Evans
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:41:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25809004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charles_Rockafellor/pseuds/Charles_Rockafellor
Summary: No phones, no lights, no motorcars, but a flying house in a sea of uncertainty can make for a wild ride.  Forever voyaging, our crew seeks the answers to life, they long for a good belly-scratching, they quest for the one true piece of ultimate toasty goodness with just the right amount of butter.  Come join the Boynton cats as they explore whatever tomorrow brings, be it sky pirates or a nice tasty fish!𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆, 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒖𝒃𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒆! ❤️
Kudos: 5
Collections: Singularity





	Cats: 2525

**Author's Note:**

> I worked for a wholesale balloon reselling company in the late '80s & early '90s and got to know a lot of different balloons (there are literally thousands of them and their accessories and related materials, but let's skip the shop-talk). One of my all-time favorites was Sandra Boynton's cute animal sketches, most notably her cats. I developed a vague idea for a story setting from them, and named a few of the cats in purr-ticular, but never got any further. This is me having a go at where that story world might have gone.

The Framework. A wild chaos of mist and earthbergs.

Drifting through the gray nothing is a somewhat sprawling villa, complete with a pleasantly broad and roofed veranda – though not too broad, of course – and a well-manicured atrium with a tasteful water feature. The water feature has fish.

The occupants of this villa are a group of cats.

These cats do all of the usual cat things: sun themselves, eat, nap, chase things around, and plan physics and chemistry experiments with unpredictable results (Ne'ergrin, the mangy-seeming gray Tabby who wore a constant maniacal grin and whose lab/bedroom grew impossible-er and impossible-er, could generally be counted upon to explode something at least once per day; most confusingly, this almost never happened when there was anything explosive at hand).

They do these things because they find themselves in a world that makes very little sense to them. They can see the way that it is, but they can also feel a distinct sense that something's not quite as it should be.

They've drifted from one island in the sky to another, meeting strange creatures of every description. People who had no need of the truth, people who learned through popping a pill; people with neither teeth nor eyes (Su-Sān – the airheaded creamy-white Persian who was never seen at the same time as her unidentical twin Tibsy, a business-like gray-and-white long-haired Calico who could appear at any time that Su-Sān was no longer there, Su-Sān sharing this ability in turn, and neither of the two ever appearing to actually travel the time and distance between – found this disturbing at first, but was soon greatly relieved to find that they could still drink cookies after having been dunked thoroughly, and soon thereafter was even more greatly relieved to find that it was only the cookies that needed the dunking); Organocybes, who dangled as limp appendages to their machine enhancements; the wildly varying Tube-Testers, who had created their enhanced genetic selves for eventual downloads, but lived in a Zeno-paradoxical state of forever tinkering with new improvements first (different amino acids, bi-rotary chains, variable numbers of chains, flexible chemical base... the list grew ever longer); an empty world, as if cast off and forgotten by all of creation, with a sea of what seemed to be pure tears.

As nearly as Whoozit (the yellow short-haired Bobtail bard-sage) could determine, the world that they found themselves in came about last week Thursday. Right about tea-time, from all indications.

This presented a spot of perplexment, as one might guess, given that their charted adventures certainly covered rather more prior territory than one could account for in so short a span of time.

In fact, they were beginning to suspect that they didn't even actually exist, or rather more to the point, that they existed in a world that didn't itself exist and that whatever had once been “existence” was now non-existent- _er_ than their non-existent existence, which made everything terribly confusing (except to Mister Mephisto, the Tuxedo [usually] who wasn't there – literally – as often as he was, and manifested all manner of small affectations the moment that you turned your back or blinked), but certainly tied it up into a neat little Gordian knot of philosophical yarn to bat about on a lazy afternoon.

Through all of this, the villa drifted, rolling and pitching gently on that intangible aether through eternal starlight.

Through all of this, the villa approached the bulk of a cloud-whale, teeming with residents mining its body, neither group yet aware of the other's existence.

**O ~~~ O**


End file.
